who AM I?
by Starjargon
Summary: A look at the men chosen to represent the human race. K plus for situations and insinuations. Please review.


**A/N- Some liberties have been taken with motivations to prove each point, though context remains. Each story referenced is from the book of Genesis. **

He had listened. He had left everything he knew, everything he wanted, every comfort and familiarity to follow a completely insane notion of believing without seeing. He believed he really did. He even took his nephew along, strong in the faith that he too would be led and blessed. When his nephew was captured, he fought and freed him. And when offered riches and material contributions, he was meek. The humble man.

But now, it had been so, so long. And he still had no children. He was promised descendents beyond measure, family without end. But yet no child's laughter rang through his tent. His dreams, devotion, and former feelings and confidences did nothing to stem the doubt that plagued him and his wife. Finally, his desires overcame his convictions. His misgivings became disbelief. He didn't want to wait anymore. His patience finally evaporated. So he stopped waiting. The fed up man.

Somewhere, deep down, or not so deep down, he knew he was wrong. But he was able to convince himself for a little while that this was what He had meant. And a little while was all it took for his great mistake- but that didn't matter. All that mattered was what he did in the moment- whether he succeeded or failed on his own. Because he became the man who took matters into his own hands. The self-sufficient man.

Later, his nephew's city was in danger. They had gone too far and cared no longer. But he couldn't just accept their fate. He couldn't simply turn aside when there was the possibility he could help. So he bargained. He begged. He tried everything. He didn't give up. The insistent man.

His son was being harassed. He didn't like it. He tried to stop it, but what could he do? He wanted his child with him. But it was time to let him go. So be believed His words again, and sent him away. He said a painful goodbye. The sorrowful man.

He had one son now. Just one. And He demanded him. Though he had faith in his son's salvation, in His promises, he felt the pain of what was required of him. He felt the fear for his child. The fear for himself. He would do what was asked of him, but not without emotion. The scared man.

He took friends with him. Friends that would hold him up, he knew. But they couldn't travel the full way. The last part of his journey, the hard part, the heartbreaking part, he had to do on his own. So he left his friends and continued without them. The forlorn man.

Despite the dreary circumstances, despite the pain constricting his heart, despite the confused looks passed him by his only child, he remained confident. Confident in Him. Confident that somehow, the situation could change. Would change. Could be reversed. That all might not be lost. Still, he was willing to follow through completely, faithful to the end. The hopeful man.

* * *

He was submissive. As compliant as his father before him. He trusted in his father's words. He believed just as hard. He too, accepted his fate, if that was what was asked of him. He didn't question it, once he knew what had to be done. Because he too believed, not only in Him, but in his dad. The good son until the end. The obedient man.

Now he was still grieving his mother's passing. He was distracted and alone and missed her. He knew his father's plan. Bring him a wife who would comfort him in his pain. But right now, his mourning nearly consumed him. The grieving man.

His wife was beautiful. That was never in dispute. But he feared the jealousy of others. So he hid the truth and allowed them to believe a lie. He was too fearful about the opinions and desires of other men. And he was uncertain of His protection. The doubtful man.

His son brought him wild game. It was like he couldn't get enough. That precious, delicious meat. He loved the taste of it in his mouth. The juices on his tongue. He was obsessed with it. He even let it sway his fatherly affections. The addicted man.

He was old now, and losing his senses. Bewildered by the ever- darkening world around him. When his son came in, he had his doubts, but he let himself be led to the desired conclusion. He was perplexed by the changes in his child, but they all seemed to be explained away. Perhaps he was overreacting. Perhaps he should not show his puzzlement. He really was getting old- that was all, and it was affecting his mind. The confused man.

It had all been a lie! He saw that, more clearly than he had seen things in so very long. He knew how it had happened. But it didn't change the facts. He had given to another what should have been his eldest son's. It wasn't his fault. Not really. That didn't make it better. He couldn't fix the damage. He was saddened and upset, but what else could he do in the face of such deceit? Nothing. The gullible man.

* * *

He was a simple man. He wasn't extra strong or extra fast. He was firm, that was true- stubborn more like it. But he wasn't particularly ambitious. He knew what he wanted, and when an opportunity would present itself, he would take it. But he rarely sought out said opportunities. Even claiming his stolen birthright was his mother's idea. He was content to live and let live until something better came along. The average man.

He took what was not his. He knew it was wrong. But he'd had a penchant for grabbing at what belonged to others since the day of his birth. He tried to blame it completely on his mother, but the fact was, he was the one who had gone through with the entire plan. He could have walked away. He could have conceded the game. But he didn't- regardless of the cost. The dishonest man.

He stole his brother's birthright. Sure, he had sold it to him long ago, but that never really made it his. Shouldn't have. Had it rightfully belonged to him, he wouldn't have had to deceive his father. He wouldn't have had to tell lie after lie after lie. But this was something he wanted. He didn't care what taking it would affect. He convinced himself, since he wanted it so badly, he _should_ have it. The selfish man.

He wanted her. Had to have her. But he was given her sister instead. He still wanted her. She wanted children. His wives began a power struggle. He should have protested when they offered their maids in their petty competition. But he found he didn't want to. He didn't even try to talk them out of it. So he accepted the maids as well. The lustful man.

His family had grown. He believed he deserved so much more than what he had come with. He struck a bargain and turned the tide to benefit himself. He bargained his father- in- law for his deserved wages. Then he carried out his plan, which robbed his uncle of his riches. The cunning man.

The brother he had cheated was after him. He was returning home and was going to be attacked and was worried for his wives and children. He made a plan to run away if his peace offering didn't work. He had run from his brother's wrath years ago, from his father's disappointment, and his father- in- law's judgment. It was his nature- to run when times got difficult. The cowardly man.

A blessing- that was what he was after. He wrestled all night. Never once did he break, even as the day dawned. He held on to his opponent as he had held his brother's foot at birth. Stubborn and resilient. The fighting man.

He begged forgiveness. He had harmed his brother with his lies and deceit. He had cost him his birthright and fled his sight. He came forward, begging for forgiveness with gifts and supplication. The contrite man.

His daughter. They had hurt his daughter. The woman they had no right to touch. Out of love, they claimed. He did not believe them. He calmed his mouth until his sons returned. He knew what they would do. He knew their deceit, the lies flavoring their tongues as they had so often done his. When his sons retaliated, he did not hold them back, chastising them instead for destroying his image amongst his neighbors. He could find no pity for the men who had taken his girl. The vengeful man.

Out of all his sons, he did not even try to hide his favoritism for his penultimate child. Special gifts and praises, fewer admonishments and more exultations. A special tunic to show off to the world. What regard had he for the feelings of his other sons? A biased man.

Wild animals had killed his favorite son. He would never again see him. Not even get the gift of burying him. He lost his child and did not wish to continue. He was lost – bereaved and heartbroken. He wished to die with him. The broken man.

The lost child was alive! His soul felt revived. He packed all he had, journeyed with all the family and servants he had ever been blessed with, determined to see his son once more. The voyage was manageable. What was a crossing a nation when it came to seeing his boy again? His heart was lighter than many years had previously allowed. He was grateful for the unexpected, un-hoped for outcome. He was appreciative and so, so pleased. The thankful man.

* * *

How different the roster would be were we to choose the men to represent us. The men held in high esteem are men of extraordinary deeds, and we name them as such- depending on how we wish to define our world and own human natures.

Many are known by their swords and war- prowess. The "best" warriors of the human race. Alexander the Great. William the Conqueror. Constantine the Great. Julius Caesar the Emperor. The men of blood.

Were we to define our race by the names of a few people, we would be idealistic in our illustrations of the nature of man. Ghandi. Martin Luther King Jr. Mother Teresa. Nelson Mandela. The men of peace.

Sometimes, we try to define ourselves by the religious leaders we deem better than everyone else. The Pope. The Dalai Lama. Billy Graham. Buddha. The men of conviction.

Our optimism for our humanity reaches into the arts, and we can pretend that all people are creative and inventive if we limit our scope to those with known talent. Thomas Edison. Benjamin Franklin. Homer. William Shakespeare. Vincent Van Gogh. Leonardo DaVinci. Men of imagination.

Even if we do reach into His book, we are quick to list the mighty men while being slow to list their faults. Moses the plague- bringer without his stutter. David the Giant- killer without his affair. Paul the apostle without his zeal. Or we focus entirely on their weakness and forget their strengths. Peter the denier and not the water- walker. Samson the tempted and not the Philistine- slayer. Adam the fallen and not the first. Men of depth.

Yes, our scales weigh differently. Humanity would be in a sad, sad state if we were to judge it. If we were to save it. If we were to love it. If we listed the template of what defined a peoples worthy of honor and glory and deliverance and adoration and passion and acceptance, we would choose to name men of such different qualities. Blood. Peace. Conviction. Imagination. Depth.

But He is not us. He went so much further to choose his people. He chose men who had both strengths and weaknesses, and he made sure the human race knew them. He selected men who really defined humanity so He could call all those like them to Him. The humble. The fed up. The broken. The vengeful. The thankful. The average. The hopeful. The cowardly. The scared. The contrite. The selfish. The obedient. The lustful. The addicted. The cunning. The forlorn. The self- sufficient. The insistent. The biased. The sorrowful. The gullible. The grieving. The confused. The fighting. The dishonest. The doubtful.

He used these three men as an example of the human race itself so He could make a simple promise to withstand every age and peoples.

I AM the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.


End file.
